D.E.B.S - tamber

nineteen, endgame

The moment Tara stepped into Endgame, she was enveloped by a wave of color and sound. The venue was transformed into a vibrant wonderland, with twinkling fairy lights draping from the ceiling like stars captured in a night sky. Tables adorned with shimmering tablecloths were scattered around, each one hosting a centerpiece of fresh flowers that added splashes of color to the otherwise darkened space. A massive disco ball hung overhead, refracting the multicolored lights dancing across the floor, casting shimmering patterns that pulsed to the rhythm of the upbeat music. The air was filled with a mix of laughter and chatter, the buzz of excitement echoing off the walls. Dressed in their finest attire, students twirled and swayed on the dance floor, each moment a blend of celebration and youthful abandon.

In one corner, a well-decorated refreshment table offered an array of colorful drinks and finger foods, drawing in clusters of students eager to refuel between dances. The DJ, perched high above the crowd, commanded the atmosphere, expertly transitioning from slow ballads to dance anthems that kept everyone moving. 

Tara's lips pressed into a tight line as she moved reluctantly to the music, her heart heavy with a mix of frustration and sadness. Every beat of the song seemed to echo the disparity between her reality and her desires. Wes twirled around her with enthusiasm, laughing and enjoying the moment as he tried to coax her into the rhythm. But for Tara, the dance floor felt more like a prison than a celebration. She tried to mirror his movements, but each sway of her hips felt forced and hollow, as if the joy of the night had bypassed her completely.

As she danced beside him, the lights flickered in a kaleidoscope of colors, illuminating the disconnection she felt. Tara's gaze drifted around the room, catching glimpses of couples lost in each other, laughter spilling from their lips, and smiles that seemed effortless. The contrast made her frown deepen; she yearned for the genuine excitement she once felt, the kind that danced in her chest when Amber was near. But tonight, with Wes's hand on her wrist and his laughter ringing in her ears, she felt like a ghost, haunting the edges of a celebration that wasn't meant for her. She bit her lip, trying to push back the memories of Amber's smile, the warmth of her touch, and the way everything felt right when they were together. Instead, she forced herself to engage, nodding to Wes and trying to muster a smile, though it never quite reached her eyes.

Amber pressed her hands against her hips, frustration radiating off her as she paced in front of the car. The bustling sounds of the party echoed faintly in the background, an unwelcome reminder of the celebration she was so desperate to crash. She glanced at Chad, who was still intently studying the blueprint map laid out on the hood of the car, pointing out the security measures with an enthusiasm that contrasted sharply with her agitation.

"Okay, what's the plan?" she questioned, trying to keep her tone steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Chad's finger traced over the marked locations on the map. "There's security here, here, and here," he explained, his voice steady and measured. "We'll infiltrate through the rooftop, take out this set of guards here, go through these vents, rappel down the elevator shaft, and then bungee-jump down to the dance floor."

Amber listened, nodding along with a furrowed brow, the adrenaline of the mission mixing with her growing impatience. "Okay, check. What's next?" she prompted, eager to keep the momentum going.